Sailing at Sunset - Cindi Madsen Page 0,95
Solitude to Polaris.”
“Well, someone made me realize that solitude might not be what I’m after. Plus, Polaris is the ultimate gold star.” Josh grinned, and a euphoric haze settled over Danae. From now on, happiness was going to factor into more of her decisions. More of her planning.
Josh took her glass and set it and his aside. Then he slipped an arm around her lower back and turned them to face the bay. Pink, purple, and orange streaked the sky, the colors melting into the reflection of the water, the breathtaking setting an excellent match for an amazing night.
Danae turned her head and locked on to eyes as blue as the morning sky. Her breath caught at the amount of affection reflected there, barely able to fathom it was aimed at her.
“You’re my Polaris,” Josh said, and time screeched to a halt as he curled her closer.
Anticipation shivered through her, tethering her to this moment and this man. At long last, his lips met hers, the mix of prickly scruff and tenderness igniting countless sparks that built and built, until every inch of her burned with the intoxicating blaze.
Suddenly she felt weightless. Thanks to the firm arm banded around her lower back she was unconcerned, delighted to give in to the thrill of Josh dipping her. As if it couldn’t help itself, her heeled foot popped up, and then they presented the ideal image of a passionate kiss against the backdrop of a gorgeous sunset.
Later, once the party wound down, she knew they’d sail off toward the horizon and start their own perfectly imperfect version of happily ever after.
Epilogue
Danae walked the now-familiar trail in the Little Bay Conservation Area with Josh at her side. For their six-month anniversary, she’d taken off Thursday and Friday so they could revisit places from their first sailing trip, where they’d begun their journey of falling in love.
Most weekends they alternated between hanging out at her beloved cottage and his cherished ship, the Polaris. Like the North Star, it had never steered them wrong.
One thing she loved about their relationship was that they made each other better. With Josh, she could relax and be more spontaneous. She trusted him wholly, with her well-being, with her evenings and weekends, and most of all, with her heart.
Josh had learned to send her texts letting her know when to expect him—within a twenty-to thirty-minute window, since the ocean didn’t always comply. He checked in when he arrived at ports with WiFi, because he understood she worried about him, and he always, always answered her emails.
Eventually.
“By the way, did you buy a present for Jane’s baby shower yet?” Josh asked, and she dodged a branch that breached the trail. “The alert went off in our calendar, and I couldn’t remember if you were going to choose something, or if we needed to go shopping tomorrow first thing.”
“Not only did I pick up several adorable baby girl outfits, they’re wrapped and ready to go. That way, when we get home late tonight, we won’t have to worry about it. We can sleep in and still be on time.”
Using his grip on her hand, Josh drew her close and wrapped his arms around her. “Have I mentioned how much I love and appreciate you lately?”
“It’s been at least a couple of hours,” she said with a laugh.
He rested his forehead against hers, much like the first time he’d brought her on this very trail. Only unlike that first time, he followed up the move with a kiss.
She lingered a moment, enjoying the embrace and soaking in his profile and his scent and everything about being with Josh Wheeler. “Have I mentioned how much I love going on adventures with you lately? Both planned and unplanned.”
“Although you prefer the planned,” Josh said, brushing his nose against hers and kissing her cheek.
“Well, of course. But I’m typically okay with the unplanned now, so that’s progress, right?”
“Right,” he said. Then they hiked the last few yards to the bench that overlooked the bay.
Even though she’d been here a handful of times, her breath still caught at the amazing view. She heard Josh behind her, lowering his backpack to the bench and rustling around in it for something.
Probably a snack. The guy was always hungry, and she’d learned the one thing he was great at being prepared for was snack time.
“We can eat our granola bars in a minute,” she said. “Now’s for enjoying the view. If you want to, I mean—you get what I’m